


Shy

by Nihiley_Face



Series: SFW Fics [12]
Category: Eddsworld
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Depression, Drug Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Other, Recovery, References to Depression, References to Drugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-02-03 06:13:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12742617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nihiley_Face/pseuds/Nihiley_Face
Summary: Tom gets better.





	Shy

**Author's Note:**

> I needed this.

It was no secret that Tom drank. 

No one was surprised when he smoked.

Hell, it was easy to believe that he was a stoner, too.

Everyone in that house was, actually.

Tom drank in his bedroom. He smoked out his window, but when he was smoking a joint, he was rarely caught. He hardly did it in the house, since he knew the smell bothered Matt. Sometimes Edd joined in, too. They smoked pot far away from people, on a cliff a mile or two from their house. Tord would join in every other blue moon as well. Matt rarely joined, the smell hurt his eyes too much and that's why they never did it in the house. That, and police.

Tom wasn't fond of cocaine. 

It made him jittery and too energetic. He just didn't like it. He had ADHD, already, and with the added energy, he just couldn't stop writhing and squirming; as if he didn't do that enough. Besides, when he came down from that high, he always had the worst hangover. Coke was a no no for him. Not fun.

Ecstasy was a little more fun, he guessed. But he could never really remember what happened every time he took it, and that worried him, so he stopped doing it as much after a few times. 

But heroin. 

Shooting up heroin was the fucking best. 

It was like he was transported to another world- a world that kind of made sense. His head was so beautifully clouded, and he laughed so much, too. It felt so nice. He was on cloud nine every time. The crash wasn't even that bad, either. If he drank enough, he couldn't feel it at all! Heroin was the fucking shit. 

He had a stash of the stuff under his mattress, in the bedframe. He never told anyone about it, he knew Edd would have an absolute coniption fit if he found out. Pot every once in a blue moon was nice. If only he knew. 

Tom never smoked once in a blue moon. All those times he went out to 'get a drink' or to 'take a walk', he just went to the cliff where he contemplated suicide and smoked joints or shot up heroin for a while to clear his head. He wasn't drunk when he came home. He was high. 

Tom shot up more and more, carefully hiding his supplies in the jacket he wore. He had a feeling Edd was getting suspicious of his activities, probably the smell of pot and the way he acted. Tom shrugged. He was bound to find out sometime. He just had to be more careful. Sometimes, he actually did go out for a drink, or for a walk, and that threw Edd off a little. Good. Tom couldn't have Edd getting onto him, now, could he? 

One time, Tom had a particularly stressful day and needed a fix, now. His body was aching for something, anything, heroine or not at this point, he was desperate. It practically hurt, he craved drugs so badly. He felt a little bad for himself and even was angry at himself for doing this, but it was too damn late for that now, wasn't it? He walked up to the cliff and leaned back against a tree for a minute. He then grabbed his tourniquet and wrapped it around his arm. He brought the needle to his vein and pushed the plunger down. He not his lip as be began to feel that amazing rush of high, leaning even further into the tree and relaxing. He felt so good right now. Everything was better and he was okay. 

At least, until Edd showed up. Edd followed Tom to the greenbelt they usually went to when the wanted to smoke pot. Edd growled and ripped the needle from Tom's hand. He picked up Tom by the front of his hoodie and growled at him, but it was too late. Tom was gone. 

"Tom!" He yelled, anger in his voice, but panic behind his eyes. "What the hell are you doing!?" Tom shrugged. "Shooting' up." He stated. Tom raised his brows. "Why?" Edd dropped him on the ground and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had noticed that Tom was less of a belligerent dick-twitch when he was 'drunk', latelty. That's because he was fucking high! On fucking heroine! Edd was pissed, but there was no point in reasoning with Tom, now. He was high off his balls, and there was no going back. They'd just have to ride out his high and deal with the situation tomorrow. Edd picked Tom up, as well as his... Supplies, so that he wasn't arrested, and he walked with his arms around Tom so that he didn't fall on the ground, or something stupid like that.

They made it home a while later, in complete silence. Tom was sweating a little, be somewhat complained about his body temperature, but hardly said anything else after he noticed Edd's stone cold silence. Edd dumped Tom in his room and left him there. Tord gave the two questioning looks, but Edd just fixed Tord with the nastiest glare and Tord backed off immediately. 

When Tom woke up in the morning, Edd was with him, staring him down with a glass of water in hand. "Where is it." He demanded. Tom looked at Edd groggily and he asked, "What?" He rubbed his void eye sockets of sleep. "Your stash." Edd said. "I know about you shooting up heroin, Tom." Tom's stomach sunk to his feet. "Now, where is it." Tom got up and sighed. He lifted his mattress and grabbed his drugs, handing them over. "There." He said, looking like he was full of guilt and self loathing, like usual. Edd stared at the harmful substances and looked pitiful. "Why?" He asked. Tom sat on the bed, feeling empty. "Why do this? The drugs?" He asked. Tom shrugged. Edd put them on the nightstand and grabbed Tom by the shoulders. "Don't give me that, Tom!" He said, startling the addict. "Because I'm an addict." He said, looking like he felt like shit. "Addicts get addicted, and I'm no better." Edd visably teared up. 

"Yes!" Edd said. "You are better than this!" He grabbed Tom's face and tried to bring it to him. "You are so much better than this..." His shoulders shook, and Tom realized he was actually crying. Tom looked away. He didn't deserve such good people. He didn't deserve Edd. Edd looked at him. "I know that look-" he said. "Don't do that, Tom." His voice was gentle, now. "Please, Tom. We can get you better!" Tom just didn't want the humiliation of rehab and AA, or whatever. He just wanted to die alone and addicted. He hasted himself. "Ton look at me." Edd said. Tom looked at his lap, instead. "Tom!" Edd cried. "Look at me! Look st me and tell me you want to get better!" Edd's heartbroken expression tore Tom apart on the inside. He couldn't hurt Edd like this any more. He needed to fix this. 

Tom looked at Edd. 

"I want to get better." He said, voice shaky. "I want to get better." He said, his voice more confident this time. Edd smiled and a few more tears spilt. "And we'll get you better, Tom." Edd said. "I believe in you." With someone being so confident in his recovery, Tom felt so much better about this. He grabbed Edd's hand, which were still on his face, and he smiled. "I can do this." He said. 

Tom was put in rehab, where he stayed the next few agonizing months of his life. 

Let's just say that withdrawal is not fun. 

He had a severe lack of sleep due to his body over heating. He had fevers all the time, and he was vomiting because his body was getting rid of the substances he had abused. He had bags under his eyes and could sometimes be found sleeping in odd places. He was shyer, now. More awkward and nerdy, less irritable and angry. He was still grumpy, though. That was a part of him you could never take from his personality. He was the village grump. He apologized a lot, sometimes, even if it wasn't his fault. He he rubbed the back of his neck and the hem of his hoodie or shirt when he was nervous and picked at his cuticles until they bled and stung his fingers. He bit the skin off of his lips until he had a permanent scar on the middle of his upper lip. He was always licking it and messing with it, so it never really healed. Edd pinched him every time he caught Tom messing with his lip, but it was just no use. 

Edd, Matt and Tord came to visit all the time, and Tom was kind of grateful. He had no friends and was far too shy to make them himself. He was no longer in school, where he could stand up to anyone to suppress his depression and stand up for his friends; there weren't any bullies, here. Everyone was really nice and it was frankly putting Tom on edge. 

Tom never really shared in group therapy. He was more open about himself in private. The things he went through... He only ever told Edd, so it was very difficult for him to talk about. He would sometimes start crying because remembering what had happened, and just how fucked up his situation really was kind of screwed with him. God, he was such a loser. Grown ass man crying over things that happened over a decade ago. 

Still, his shrink was kind. She had patience with Tom and seemed to actually hold empathy for him. Like, she actually cared. Tom hardly believed that, but it felt nice to have someone who seemed to care, even if for a moment. 

When Tom stopped having fevers and no longer vomited every night, and could sleep, he was prescribed medicine for his depression and his ADHD. He was moved from the rehab shrink to a real shrink and he felt a little proud of himself. He was released from rehab once and for all, and Edd hugged him so tight. They just hugged for a long time, there, in the lobby. Edd took Tom's bags, and Tom looked better. Now, it was just a matter of handling his emotions in a healthier way. 

In rehab, Tom had taken up writing. He wrote a lot that he refused to share with Edd out of humiliation and embarrassment. He pulled the writing to his chest and his face turned pink. He curled in on his body and shook his head. Edd would laugh and try to comfort him into coming out of his shell because, God, he forgot how shy Tom used to be. 

Tord really wasn't used to it. 

At first, he treated Tom the same as ever, but then he noticed the behavioural changes. Tom hid in his hoodie more, his face flushed more and he did this odd thing where he curled up in almost a fetal position, with his knees to his chest and his hands on his, (probably burning), face. Tord made faces and didn't quite get it. He noticed that Tom for quieter, and over the course of a few months, he'd already rubbed holes in his hoodie and the few shirts he wore out of anxiety. Tom didn't always join in on a conversation. Sometimes, he just observed it. He'd watch the conversation between Edd and Matt about something stupid for a lot longer than he needed to. Why? Tord didn't know, but he wanted to. 

It wasn't until one day, Tom was at his desk in his room, writing something down. He looked very concentrated. His hand moved about the page quickly, writing something that must have been important. Tord was curious, so he walked up behind him and looked over his shoulder to watch. 

_Edd held his breath for a second before he let out a loud roar of laughter, deep and full of energy, like himself. Tord joined in, too, leaning back in his chair as he covered his face with his hand. I can't remember what they were talking about, exactly, but apparently it was humorous to them. I was glad they were enjoying a conversation. I wondered what other conversations I had missed between them whilst I was recovering._

Tom stared at the paper and hummed. He seemed disappointed. He started a new paragraph. 

_I remembered what it looked like. The white walls were covered in winding ivy, paint chipping and cracking. The ivy grew through the paint and made a lovely pattern on the side of the building. Beautiful little flowers grew through the weeds and made it lovlier. The setting sun completed the scene before me, casting my shadow right in the front of it. The grass flowed with the wind and the stone benches on each side looked so inviting. But, I didn't seem worthy of being near such s beautiful experience. I didn't want to touch the ivy, for my fear of killing it with my poison touch was overtaking me. I walked away._

Tord enjoyed this. Tom's writing was imaginative and descriptive. He could see that Tom might develop a case of purple prose, but that was okay. Tom seemed like he would do nicely with it. "You should write a book." He said, simply. Tom jumped and nearly hit his head on Tord's as he did so. "How-! How long have you been standing there!?" He asked, closing in on himself and beginning to curl his body. Tord decided to play it cool. "Uh, I don't know." He said. He shrugged. "A few minutes, or something?" Tom's face was red and he gave this grimace looking expression. "I'm sorry," Tord said. "I- I know you don't like people reading your stuff, and I kind of invaded your privacy." Tord looked sheepish. "I'm sorry." Tom nodded, still too shy to look at Tord. "It's- it's okay." They were both silent for a while. 

It was awkwardly quiet, now. 

"So," Tom said. You could see by the movement of his eyeyelids that he was flicking his eyes back and forth between Tord and the floor. "You really think I should write a book?" Tord looked at Tom, nodding. "Yeah!"

They went on to discuss what Tom could write about, romance, or mystery, or horror. A bond of trust was created in that moment. 

If only that bond had mattered, now. 

**Author's Note:**

> Uufguuhhrejjre
> 
> This is so rushed and I hate most of it but I wanted something nice for once,,,
> 
> Also, sorry about the typos, I wrote this on my phone because my POS computer broke,,
> 
> Also  
> If ya wanna hmu and/or request something, go to my tumblr @ daddy-issues-anon.tumblr.com


End file.
